


Between the Covers

by vetiverite



Series: Grand Pas de Deux [5]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Dancer Fíli, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, FiKiWeek2020, Grand Pas de Deuxniverse, M/M, Nobleman Kíli, Orphan Fíli, Slice of Life, Unrelated Fíli and Kíli
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:47:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24997111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vetiverite/pseuds/vetiverite
Summary: Fili doesn't ask for much, but he keeps it secret and safe.
Relationships: Fíli & Kíli (Tolkien), Fíli/Kíli (Tolkien)
Series: Grand Pas de Deux [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1646743
Comments: 11
Kudos: 18
Collections: FiKi Week 2020





	Between the Covers

**Author's Note:**

> A snippet from the Grand Pas de Deux verse for FiKiWeek 2020.

He’d seen it in a shop on Nevsky Prospekt. He did not realize he could simply buy and own it; believing such a thing impossible, the orphan pined for the prize in silence.

One day, his lover found a strange object drying by the bedroom fire. A wad of butcher paper held together with wheat-paste and string, pressed between what on further inspection proved to be the discarded covers of an old household ledger.

A journal.

Kíli remembered its original quite clearly: the single, long banner of silky mulberry paper folded concertina-style between two brocade covers tied shut with ribbons. Fíli had pretended, of course – fingering every other item on the shelf in a great show of indifference – but the journal commanded his interest to the exclusion of all else in the shop. 

Proud to the core, he never asked for much and confessed to few needs in this life. But that day on Nevsky Prospekt, _he wanted that one thing_ — enough to cobble together a clumsy facsimile at home.

Kíli immediately dispatched his valet with orders to arrange a certain item’s delivery to Liteyniy Avenue.

It arrived plainly wrapped, without a note, as if from a secret admirer. When Fíli unwrapped it, he gave a wordless cry of joy—then, like a magpie, he immediately flew upstairs to hide his treasure. 

Kíli had never dreamt of asking where the journal had gone, or what thoughts and memories now existed between its covers. Did it matter? Even if Fíli never wrote in it – even if he only _looked_ at the journal, sat and stroked it or played with opening and closing it – _it made him happy,_ which made Kíli happy. 

Still, sometimes he idly wondered where Fíli had squirreled away the journal. Someplace veiled in mystery, no doubt. At the bottom of the waist-high vase that held a plume of dried pampas grass… behind a hidden wall panel… thrust under the mattress as far as his arm could go…

Today, Kíli went hunting through their shared desk for a letter opener. Teasing open a bottom drawer, he came upon an object that prompted first astonishment, then a fond smile. 

It had been there all along—not hidden, not really, though Fíli had half-wrapped it in the scarf Kíli gave him when they first loved one another. He’d never thought to conceal his secrets from the one he trusted… which meant, perhaps, that there were no longer any secrets to conceal.

Gently, reverently, Kíli closed the drawer.


End file.
